


69

by LanJevinson



Series: Mickey Tries New Things [4]
Category: Shameless - Fandom
Genre: PWP, season five
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-07-10 09:40:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6978148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LanJevinson/pseuds/LanJevinson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian and Mickey try something new, and Mickey is his usual adorable, insecure, lovesick self.  Set in early season five, canon compliant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	69

**Author's Note:**

> Don't let the title fool you- this was supposed to be an exercise in (my first attempt at) smut writing but turned into mostly feelings with a little sex on the side.

The moment Mickey steps into the house, Ian is on him. 

"House to ourselves," Ian singsongs.  "Let's take advantage." 

"Ain't you supposed to be with the kid?" Mickey asks, disentangling Ian's arms from around his neck and glancing around.  

It's rare that in the middle of the day the house is completely empty. It's not like any of them (minus Mandy and her fuckwit boyfriend) have legal 9-5 jobs. 

"I told you, not on Thursdays," Ian tells him, annoyance creeping into his voice.

"Right." He needs to try to remember the schedule.  It isn't like _he_ takes his turn watching the kid, and he doesn't want that to change.  

Ian forgives him for the slip quickly, and is already manhandling him into their bedroom. 

“Think my ass needs a break, man," Mickey groans when it's clear where this is going.

Lately all they do is fuck.  Sometimes three, four times a day.  

“Let's do something different then," Ian suggests.

“You want me to do you?”  They don't do it often, but it's nice every once in a while. 

“If you want,” Ian offers generously. “But not tonight. Take off your clothes and lay on the bed.”

Mickey hates himself a little for the way his cock jumps when Ian tells him what to do like that. But he doesn't hate himself enough not to listen. He does what he's told as quickly as possible, and Ian follows suit, grinning.

“Not on your back,” Ian orders him when Mickey makes to lay dick-up with his head on his pillow. “On your side, like this.” Ian lays down on his left side with his head at the foot of the bed and his feet up by Mickey's face.

“Are we fucking 69ing?” Mickey asks a little incredulously even as his half mast dick rises at the idea. Ian's own dick is only a few inches away and it's hard too. Mickey thinks he could stick out his tongue and touch it if he wanted to.

He kind of wants to.

“Yeah,” Ian laughs. “You ever done this before?”

“Not with a dude,” Mickey answers honestly. He'd “dated” this chick in middle school who wanted to try it because she was saving herself for marriage. Mickey thinks it may have been that exact moment he'd realized he was definitely, totally not into chicks. “What about you?” he asks Ian.

“Yeah.  Once or twice,” Ian says, grinning.

Mickey tries desperately to suppress the hot pulse of jealousy and hurt that fills his chest. Yet another reminder that Mickey had _actually_ waited around like some bitch while Ian fucked anything that breathed back before they were _together_ together.

“So are we gonna do this or what?” he asks sharply, pushing his feelings down to analyze later (or never) and instead focusing on the present, which is Ian's huge cock in his face.

“Was just waiting for you,” Ian murmurs, and then he dives in and Mickey groans.  
It takes him several seconds and Ian not so subtly nudging him in the chin with the head of his dick before he gets with the program.

Holy fuck, it's amazing. A good BJ always gets him off, but this is something else.

(He's known for a long time that he likes dick but never imagined he would be turned on by _sucking_ dick.  It always seemed a little gayer than the rest of it.

He likes sucking Ian's dick, anyway.)

He takes as much of Ian as he can into his mouth over and over again.  He's doing a sloppy job of it because he's so wrecked. His chin is coated with his own spittle and Ian's leaking precum. And when he feels the light, confident pressure of Ian's finger against his asshole he almost comes on the spot.

He lets out a muffled “mmmph” as Ian's finger breaches his hole. He reciprocates by dragging his other arm he was resting his head on to fondle Ian's balls. Ian hums his approval and Mickey flushes with pleasure and pride.

Ian easily finds, and then expertly jabs twice at Mickey's prostate, and the combined effect of a tongue on his dick, a finger in his ass, and Ian's heavy weight filling his mouth sends Mickey over the edge. He can't help but pump a bit into Ian's mouth as he comes down his throat, but Ian takes it like a champ.

The moment Mickey's done coming Ian pulls away from Mickey's body, taking his dick with him.

“Hey-” he starts to argue, but Ian rockets up to his knees and settles next to Mickey's head.

“Can I come on your face?” he asks quickly, voice gravely.

Fuck, Mickey wishes he wants to say no. He should say no.  That shit's for girls and porn stars.

“Yeah,” Mickey says softly. His spent dick jerks again.

Ian moves to straddle Mickey's head and presses his dick into Mickey's mouth. Mickey's arms are sort of trapped beneath Ian's legs, but he manages to palm his oversensitive dick as he lets his mouth get fucked.

He wishes he hadn't come so quickly, because this is so fucking hot.

Without warning, Ian pulls out of Mickey's mouth and rubs the head of his dick against Mickey's still-parted lips, up onto his cheeks and over his eyes as hot, milky come pours out of him.

“Oh,” Ian breathes. “Oh, fuck. Mick.”  
Mickey is frozen in place. He's realizing now that it's happening that the _idea_ of getting a money shot is much hotter than _actually_ getting one.

If he's honest with himself, it makes him feel sort of ashamed. Used.  It's a strange feeling, because usually he's unapologetically into kinky shit.

“Get this shit off me,” he barks. He can't open his eyes, but he feels Ian scramble off the bed and return with what feels like one of their shirts. Gently, Ian wipes at the mess, but it seems like he's just spreading it around, so Mickey snatches it from him and does it himself.

When he finally can open his sticky eyelids, Ian is still leaning over him, grinning happily with that wild glint in his eyes that's been present for months now.

“That was the hottest thing I've ever seen,” Ian insists.

“Glad you fucking enjoyed yourself.”

“You didn't?” Ian asks mildly, looking largely unconcerned as he gets off the bed and moves around the room searching for his clothes.

“Where you goin’?” Mickey asks, unable to quell the needy quality to his voice.

“Work. Gotta shower.”

Mickey scowls.

Ian grins. He moves back over to where Mickey is still laying on the bed and kisses him leisurely on the mouth.

“Call in sick,” Mickey wheedles, tugging Ian down again by the arm for more.

“We need the money,” Ian says against his mouth.

That's true. And Ian brings in decent money.

Mickey lets him go.

“You taste like me,” Ian tells him. “And you're all sticky.”

“Wonder why,” Mickey snaps, embarrassment rearing back.  He jerks off the bed and, still naked, marches into the bathroom to wash his face.  Ian follows behind him and dumps his clothes in a pile on the floor before turning on the shower.

“So who'd you do it with?” Mickey asks hesitantly, unable to stop thinking about it.

“Huh?” Ian disappears behind the shower curtain.

“You know,” Mickey waves a hand in the air, annoyed that he has to explain himself. “69ing.”

“Oh. It was Ned.” Ian calls over the sound of the water.

“You really got right up in those old man balls, huh?”

“Don't be jealous,” Ian chides playfully. “The second we did it I knew I wanted to try it with you.”

That pacifies Mickey a little bit.

“So are you like, gonna be even more into me when I get old? Since wrinkly dicks turn you on.”

“Don't think it's possible for me to get more into you,” Ian murmurs, sticking his head out from behind the curtain and smiling softly. “But I'm sure I'll love your wrinkly dick too.”

Mickey feels inwardly exultant at the implication of this conversation- that he and Ian will be together until they're old and gray.

He never imagined he would ever have this, not even in some faraway daydream.

He catches his own expression in the mirror. He's grinning dopily. Quickly, he checks to see that Ian's back behind the curtain and schools his expression into something more neutral.

“Did you really not like it?” Ian asks conversationally.

“It was good,” Mickey hedges. “Just- the ending-”

“Not your thing?

“I dunno.”  He can't put his feelings about it into words.  

“You never done that before either?” Ian wonders.

“No,” Mickey insists again, agitated, because of fucking course he hasn't, and Ian should know this.  He hasn't really done anything with anyone aside from Ian.

“Well, next time you can see what it's like from the other side.” Ian shuts the water off and wrenches the curtain aside, dripping wet and standing there in all his glory.

Mickey takes his time checking Ian out and considers the offer. He imagines Ian under him, compliant and worked up, as Mickey spills onto his face. _You belong to me_ , the action says. _You are mine and mine alone._

He understands it better now. He could get into it.

“Yeah, okay,” Mickey agrees.

Ian grabs a towel and scrubs at his hair.

“Want me to wake you when I get home?” he asks, waggling his eyebrows.

“Won't you be too tired?” Mickey asks, raising his eyebrows. Lately Ian's been coming home in the wee hours of the morning and either sleeps for just a few hours or doesn't get in bed at all. And he's still got energy the rest of the day.  

He swears he isn't taking anything, but Mickey isn't so sure. He wishes Ian would be honest with him.

“Never too tired for you,” Ian tells him. He steps out of the tub and starts to pull on his clothes.

“C’mere,” Mickey orders, snatching the towel where Ian had put it on the hook and drying Ian's back for him. “You're still soaking wet.”

“Yeah, I kinda gotta hurry. Big bachelor party coming in and they need all the guys they can for lap dances.”

“Jesus,” Mickey groans. “Why you gotta tell me that shit?”

Ian just laughs.

“I like it when you get all territorial,” Ian teases him.

“How would you feel if I was grinding my dick on horny guys all night?” Mickey challenges, then regrets it. What if Ian wouldn't care?

But Ian only looks speculative for a moment, then says softly, “ I'd know you were coming home to me at the end of the night.”

Mickey feels guilty now. He has no reason not to trust Ian. Ian might have fucked around in the past, but that was before they were exclusive. Things are different now.

“You can wake me up when you get home,” Mickey tells him.

“Can't wait.” Ian grins and tugs his shirt over his head. “See you later.”

 

Mickey tries to keep what Ian said about the bachelor party out of his head the rest of the night. He even reads the baby a story while Svetlana showers to distract himself. But by the time he's crawling into bed all by himself a little after midnight, he's good and pissed off.

He imagines sweaty old men scrabbling to shove dollar bills deep into Ian's tiny shorts as he grinds against them. He imagines a few other try to cop a feel. Ian probably lets them, cuz he'll make bigger tips.

Mickey tosses and turns, falling farther and farther down the rabbit hole as he imagines Ian getting sucked off in the bathroom for an extra twenty bucks- or worse, sucking someone else off for twenty bucks, like he was doing before when Mickey found him.

God, Mickey will probably never forgive himself for letting Ian walk away after the wedding.

 

Ian creeps into the room at quarter to three, shutting the door softly behind him.

“You're back,” Mickey says, and Ian jumps.

“You're up,” Ian responds, a hand on his heart as he recovers from his shock. “Was hoping to wake you up with my mouth.” He grins sexily and crawls onto Mickey's side of the bed, forcing Mickey to scoot over so Ian can squeeze in right next to him.  Mickey scrunches up his nose.

“You smell like tequila.”

“Customer bought me a shot at the end of my shift.”

“Good night, huh?” Mickey snarls.

“Real good,” Ian agrees, ignoring Mickey's tone. “And it's about to get better.” He grinds against Mickey's hips. “I'm all wound up.”

“What, giving lap dances all night turns you on?” Mickey accuses even as his body responds.

“No, thinking about _you_ all night turns me on,” Ian corrects.

Mickey snorts.

“Don't believe me?” Ian murmurs. He wrenches the sheets away from Mickey's chest and kisses his way down his body, stopping to nuzzle at Mickey's still-clothed dick.

Mickey wants to turn his brain off and just enjoy himself. He does.

“Just- can't stop thinking about you giving lap dances all night to other guys,” Mickey mutters, and Ian stills. Then he huffs out a breath and abruptly gets up, opening the bedroom door and leaving the room.

Mickey panics. In his scramble to get out of bed his feet get caught in the sheets and he swears as he nearly face plants when he launches after Ian.

But Ian is back as soon as he left. He closes the bedroom door and tosses his backpack onto the bed.

“Look at this,” he orders Mickey. He rips open the small front pocket and shoves an enormous wad of cash into Mickey's hands.  "All from one night."

"Holy shit."  Mickey counts quickly.  Usually it's ones and fives, but today it's mostly twenties and fifties.  "800 bucks?"

"Woulda been 700, but some idiot passed out on the couch with his wallet on the table."   

"Fuck," Mickey breathes. The best Ian's ever done was 500 when he worked a double on a Saturday.  

"When's the last time the rub and tug brought in this kind of cash in one night?" Ian challenges.

Never, is the answer.

"I'm gonna keep dancing," Ian tells Mickey firmly.  "And it would go a lot easier if you were on board."  

Never is the answer to that, too.  He will literally never be okay with Ian grinding for cash, but Mickey can swallow his pride if it means he's got food in his belly and diapers for the kid and Svetlana off his back.  

As long as Ian's by his side, he can deal with anything.

"Whatever," he says.  He tosses the money onto the bedside table.  "Now hurry up and get over here.  I got shit I gotta do."

"Like what?" Ian laughs as he pushes Mickey down on the bed and settles between his legs.

"Like sleep, man.  We aren't all the fuckin' energizer bunny."   

"You want me to keep going?" Ian prompts cheekily, fingers tugging at the elastic of Mickey's boxers. Mickey smirks.

"And going and going and- fuuuuck!" 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you who read the New Year and are like "dude, priorities much?", I'm shooting for Saturday to upload chapter 12.


End file.
